Broken Shovels Farm Sanctuary

Broken Shovels Farm Sanctuary Providing sanctuary for abused, neglected, unwanted farm animals and a safe place to share their love

In 2009, I embarked on a journey during a remodeling closure of the library where I worked. A 20 year vegetarian, I was curious as to how the small dairy industry operated and took on dairy industry internships that would carry me through the year-long closure. In doing so, I uncovered astonishing abuse and systems of power and exploitation that shocked me to my core. That year turned into 3 years

, and I stayed on as an intern in desperate need to protect the animals that had become my companions and family as best I could. Eventually leaving, unable to witness anymore, I fled with 24 birds and 16 slaughter-bound goats from the dairy and returned to Denver to make a home for my human and non-human family. I had an idea that I could both expose and change the industry by producing dairy products free from the things that had horrified me; slaughter, artificial insemination, separation of mother and child, breakup of families and lack of responsible vet care, costs weighed not by the prognosis of the individual suffering but the cost-effectiveness of what the sufferer could repay. I opened a slaughter-free dairy and took out all of the things I found morally reprehensible about the industry in which I had worked. I was successful in showing the ills of the dairy industry to many of my followers and customers, and marginally successful, financially, enough so to begin taking in other species of abused/neglected/slaughterbound farm animals. Within the first couple years, there were many enlightening moments that drew me further and further from a dairy and found many cracks in my ideas that I could change the industry from within. Having a clearer view of long-termed relationships and animal families, it was no longer a satisfactory answer to breed goats to produce milk and eventually rehome their children, even into pet homes, and feel that I was doing my best good. More research into the environmental impact of animal agriculture and its effect on world hunger led me to veganism. In 2014, my staff and I went vegan and began to immerse ourselves in vegan philosophy. Realizing that running a dairy of any kind was no longer within the scope of my ethics nor compatible with being a farm animal sanctuary, we have closed the dairy and have opened Broken Shovels Farm Sanctuary, to truly spread our greatest influence of kindness to human and non-human people.

I’ll be honest. We’ve been a little heartbroken by the response to our evening events this year, not because we need hug...
06/17/2026

I’ll be honest. We’ve been a little heartbroken by the response to our evening events this year, not because we need huge crowds, but because we truly believe these are some of the most magical hours a person can spend at the sanctuary. If you’ve been to one, you really understand what people are missing out on.

Daytime visits are wonderful, but summer afternoons in Colorado can be brutally hot. We’ve even had guests and staff become ill from the heat at past events. And the animals want all the shade we have for themselves.

So in order to make sure the animals have all the scritches they need, we added an experience in the evening.

And what you’ll discover is that the sanctuary transforms. The animals have finished dinner and are enjoying the part of the day that belongs to them. After a day hiding from the sun and conserving energy, they come alive.

The goats are climbing, playing, and looking for one last adventure before bed. The birds are settling into their nighttime routines. The swans glide across the pond as the sun drops behind the mountains.

And as the evening comes to an end, we get to do one of our favorite things: say goodnight to the animals.

It’s peaceful. It’s beautiful. It’s cooler. And somehow, it feels more personal than any daytime event we’ve ever hosted. It’s like a back stage pass to their lives.

Everyone who has attended has said the same thing:

“I can’t believe more people aren’t here.”

Honestly, neither can we.

Part of that is because these evenings aren’t just special for the people who attend. They’re special for the animals, too.

Many of our residents genuinely look forward to visitors. They seek out attention, ask for scratches, follow volunteers around, and eagerly greet new friends. For animals who were once neglected, abandoned, exploited, or forgotten, being loved by people has become one of the great joys of their lives.

We don’t host these evenings because we need more events on our calendar. We host them because we love watching the animals connect with the people who make their lives possible.

This Saturday we’ll have Alpine Eatery serving mind blowingly good food, cold drinks, sunset with hundreds of rescued animals, and an evening that feels more like spending time with friends than attending an event.

If you’ve ever wanted to experience Broken Shovels at its very best, this is the moment we’d love to share with you.

We hope you’ll join us. We’ve kept our same low price of $10 per person or $15 at the gate, to ensure our events are accessible to those who may need these visits the most!

This Saturday, June 20th, 6:30-8pm

Get tickets here:

https://ticketstripe.com/Junesunsets2026

These gnarled and scaly little feet belonged to someone I loved dearly, but had to say a gentle and peaceful farewell to...
06/16/2026

These gnarled and scaly little feet belonged to someone I loved dearly, but had to say a gentle and peaceful farewell to today after a short but terminal illness, to make sure we upheld our promise to give as many good days as possible to all who come through our gates. She had lived more than 3 lifespans that most captive quail will ever see, ancient and wise and at the same time still curious and engaged.

Looking at these feet after she passed, I found myself tracing the story of her life.

The missing toes. The twisted joints. The thickened scales. Every deformity is evidence of a life that adapted to conditions no animal should have had to endure. Frostbite doesn’t happen in a warm, protected environment. Arthritic feet don’t develop from walking through grass, dust baths, and soft bedding. They develop from years of standing on wire and metal grates, on surfaces that were never meant to support a living body.

Before she came to us, Mama was one of a group of quail discovered packed into a tiny cage in someone’s garage. The person hired to care for the property stumbled upon them and asked if they should be feeding the birds.

“No,” they were told. “They’re not laying anymore. They’ll just die.” Not a second thought was given to them.

Had that caretaker not reached out for help, that would have been the end of Mama’s story.

Instead, she came here.

And what strikes me most isn’t what happened before she arrived. It’s what happened after. Because for all the ways industrial breeding had shaped her body, it never erased who she was.

People are told quail are simple. Disposable. Nervous little production animals. Egg machines. But Mama disproved that every day.

This was a bird who felt safe enough to hide eggs from us and hatch babies, an extraordinarily rare thing for a quail to “go broody”. Safe enough to believe they would survive. Maybe she took on that secret little family, an enormous investment, with a sense of safety, and the certainty that tomorrow would exist. Somewhere along the way, a little quail who had spent years in a garage waiting to die decided that the world had become good enough to bring babies into it.

And then she showed us exactly who she was. Not an egg layer. Not livestock. Not inventory. A mother.

A vigilant one. Counting babies. Calling them in. Tucking them beneath her feathers. Making sure every single one was warm and safe beneath her chunky little body. Continuing to love them long after they were grown.

I think that’s one of the most heartbreaking things about quail. Their suffering is so normalized that people rarely stop to ask who they might have been under different circumstances. They’re kept in tiny cages because we’ve decided they’re the sort of animal who tolerates tiny cages. They’re left in freezing temperatures because we’ve decided they’re hardy. Their reproductive systems are pushed beyond what their bodies were ever meant to do because we’ve decided their eggs matter more than they do.

And then a bird like Mama comes along and reminds us that beneath all of that manipulation is still an individual. Someone with preferences and relationships and fears and attachments. Someone who recognized the people she trusted. Someone who loved her babies. Someone whose body carried the scars of what humans had done to her, but whose spirit remained intact enough to build a family anyway.

Those little feet tell the story of everything she survived. But the babies she raised tell the story of who she was. Generous, kind, and invested in her own life and happiness. And in the end, I think that’s the more important story.

Rest easy, Mama. Your life was never supposed to matter to anyone.

We’re so grateful that it did.

🚨QUICK CLOVER UPDATE! 🚨She made it through surgery. ❤️‍🩹After a terrifying night that ended with an emergency trip to th...
06/15/2026

🚨QUICK CLOVER UPDATE! 🚨

She made it through surgery. ❤️‍🩹

After a terrifying night that ended with an emergency trip to the veterinarian and surgery to remove her damaged eye, our tiniest old lady is now resting and recovering.

She’s still sleepy, still groggy, and probably not thrilled with us, but she is comfortable and recovering.

We are incredibly grateful to everyone who donated, shared, worried, and sent good thoughts. Yesterday was frightening, and seeing this tiny face resting peacefully feels like a gift.

The road ahead will include medications, follow-up care, and healing, but for now we’re simply grateful that Clover is still here.

And we’re pretty sure her sister Calliope will be very happy to have her home.

We’ve already raised almost half of her initial emergency surgery bill, thanks to all of you! Every dollar helps us make sure emergency care is available in those terrifying moments we need it ♥️

Venmo:
(last 4 digits 8541 — please be aware of scammers on this platform!)

Zelle: 303-995-8541

PayPal: [email protected]

Website:
https://buy.stripe.com/3cs2bAc8e2s06He8wx

🚨HELP! VET EMERGENCY FOR TINY CLOVER! 🚨Many of you know Clover as one half of the tiniest goat duo at Broken Shovels.Clo...
06/14/2026

🚨HELP! VET EMERGENCY FOR TINY CLOVER! 🚨

Many of you know Clover as one half of the tiniest goat duo at Broken Shovels.

Clover and her sister, Calliope, are micro-mini pygmy goats who somehow still look like babies from a distance. It’s only when you get close enough to see their graying little faces that you realize they’re actually the littlest old ladies.

They’ve been residents of Broken Shovels since 2017, and for nearly a decade, these sisters have been inseparable.

This afternoon, Clover suddenly began screaming in pain.

She had been receiving treatment for what appeared to be a relatively minor eye infection, something we believed we were managing appropriately with veterinary care and medication. Then, without warning tonight, her eye ruptured.

We still don’t know exactly what happened. Severe infections can occasionally create pressure behind the eye, abscesses can rupture, and trauma can sometimes complicate what initially appears to be a straightforward infection. What we do know is that Clover was in tremendous pain and needed emergency treatment immediately, even on a Sunday after hours.

She is currently on her way to the emergency vet and we are preparing ourselves for the possibility of advanced diagnostics, surgery, hospitalization, or even removal of the eye if that is what is needed to give her relief.

This has been an extraordinarily difficult financial year for the sanctuary. Much of our veterinary reserve fund has already gone toward the routine but essential care that keeps hundreds of animals healthy and comfortable: hoof trims, shearing, medications, diagnostics, and preventive veterinary care. Those expenses aren’t glamorous, but they are what allow elderly animals like Clover to continue enjoying their lives.

Unfortunately, emergencies don’t wait for the budget to recover.

If you are able to help, any contribution toward Clover’s emergency care would mean the world to us, it’s a long night of worry ahead…

Most of all, we are hoping this tiny girl can come home. Because tonight, Calliope is already looking for her sister. And after never being separated a day in their lives, we desperately want Clover to make it back to the little old goat who has spent almost her entire life by her side.

Venmo:
(last 4 digits 8541 — please be aware of scammers on this platform!)

Zelle: 303-995-8541

PayPal: [email protected]

Website:
https://buy.stripe.com/3cs2bAc8e2s06He8wx

06/09/2026

The overwhelming response to my post about our infant rat rescue has been incredibly eye opening and deeply comforting. So many people shared how much they were moved by that tiny life, and hearing from all of you left me feeling hopeful. It reminded me that when we encourage one another to see the world through a more compassionate lens, those small shifts matter. Maybe we’ll never build a perfect utopia, but I do believe we can help create a world with a softer side, one where more people pause, notice, and choose kindness when they can.

It also reminded me that maybe there are more people looking for reasons to care than there are looking for reasons not to. And because of that, I felt comfortable sharing this story too.

This winter, I found a tiny jumping spider near my bed. Like most of us who coexist with spiders, I probably wouldn’t have thought much of her beyond admiring her fuzzy little pedipalps.

Over the years, I’ve spent a lot of time learning about the animals who share this property with us, not limited to the domesticated and the obvious wild birds and mammals but also just below that surface, like the jumping spiders who seem to be everywhere at the sanctuary. Through that, I learned that a spider’s abdomen can tell you a lot about how they’re doing. A healthy jumping spider carries a plump abdomen. A dehydrated or starving spider often doesn’t. I was reminded that sometimes these too are animals who need help.

This little one was so thin that I knew immediately she was struggling. So I offered her a drop of water on a cotton swab, the safe way to water a spider who can drown just from getting damp. Immediately and enthusiastically she drank.

Answering this basic need not because she was someone’s pet, or because she was endangered or because she was beautiful in the ways we usually define beauty, but because she was thirsty.

Once she had her fill, she wandered off on her way. I don’t know what happened to her after that. One drink of water wasn’t going to solve every problem in her life. But for that moment, she wasn’t as thirsty as she had been before.

Lately, I’ve been thinking more and more about compassion, and its ultimate trajectory. In a world that often seems to be losing compassion even for our fellow humans, it can feel strange to talk about kindness toward a spider.

But I don’t think compassion works from the top down. I don’t think we learn compassion by starting with the beings that everyone already agrees are worthy of it. I think we learn it from the bottom up.

We learn it by looking at a creature most people fear, ignore, or kill without a second thought and asking ourselves a simple question:

“What does this individual need right now?”

Sometimes the answer is nothing. Sometimes the answer is simply leaving them alone. Sometimes it’s choosing not to put a house spider outside in the middle of winter, knowing that many species have spent countless generations adapting to life indoors and won’t survive the cold.

And sometimes it’s noticing that a tiny spider is thirsty, and offering a drop of water.

One of the lessons this work continues to teach me is that compassion is no longer just about avoiding harm, but it also doesn’t hinge on solving every problem. It’s about making the world a little easier to navigate for the lives we encounter along the way. It’s about paying attention. It’s about caring enough to learn who our neighbors are, how they live, what they need, and when they might need our help. Because every meaningful act of compassion starts the same way:

First, we notice.

Then we care.

Then we learn.

Then we act.

Even when the life in front of us is very small.

❤️ Five Dollar Friday for Deb ❤️Last week, we shared the heartbreaking news that we lost our friend, volunteer, board me...
06/05/2026

❤️ Five Dollar Friday for Deb ❤️

Last week, we shared the heartbreaking news that we lost our friend, volunteer, board member, and sanctuary family member, Deb.

For years, Deb showed up for the animals in ways most people would never see. She scrubbed waterers so hundreds of animals could have clean water. She welcomed visitors at events. She made beautiful jewelry to support the sanctuary. She loved animals fiercely, especially a goat named Dijon, who narrowly escaped euthanasia simply because he was unwanted.

Even while facing serious health challenges of her own, Deb never stopped thinking about the future of Broken Shovels.

One of her final acts of generosity was establishing a $20,000 matching gift to help complete the future visitor center, gift shop, and utility building she hoped would one day be known as Dijon’s Place.

Today, we’re asking for your help honoring that legacy.

This year’s drought across Colorado and much of the surrounding region has us deeply concerned about what hay prices will look like in the months ahead. Hay is the foundation of everything we do. It feeds the cows, buffaloes, horses, donkeys, goats, sheep, and many of the animals who call Broken Shovels home. Without it, nothing else works.

The special-needs residents, the hospice animals, the medical cases we can shoulder, none of that is possible unless we first have the basics covered for the hundreds of healthy animals who depend on us every day.

Right now, we need to prepare before the crisis arrives.

So for this Five Dollar Friday, we’re asking everyone who loved Deb, who believes in this sanctuary, or who simply wants to help us weather what could be a very difficult hay season, to consider a gift of $5.

Five dollars won’t buy a month of hay.

But hundreds of people giving five dollars absolutely can.

And every dollar brings us closer to meeting Deb’s final match and building the future she believed in.

If you’d like to help us honor Deb’s legacy, please donate today.

❤️ For Deb.
❤️ For Dijon.
❤️ For the animals whose lives are better because she was here.

Venmo:
(last 4 digits 8541 — please be aware of scammers on this platform!)

Zelle: 303-995-8541

PayPal: [email protected]

Website:
https://buy.stripe.com/3cs2bAc8e2s06He8wx

06/04/2026

This tiny baby has no idea that the world considers her a pest.

She doesn’t know that there are very few, if any, places willing or able to take in orphaned rats, and during the busy baby season, she’d be denied space to accommodate “native species”. She doesn’t know that many people would struggle to feel the same compassion for her that they would for a rabbit, a squirrel, a puppy, or a songbird.

Not because her life is less valuable. Not because her suffering is any less real. But because we’ve decided she belongs to a category of animals who don’t deserve our concern.

Last week, she was found naked, cold, injured, and alone here at the sanctuary. At the time, her ears weren’t even open yet. She was the size of a thumb and completely dependent on someone deciding her life was worth the trouble.

At first, she had to be warmed and rehydrated very carefully and very slowly to keep her tiny body from going into shock. She was so small and fragile that there was little we could do for the pain of her severed tail except keep her comfortable, safe, and supported while she healed.

For now, she needs to be fed every three hours around the clock. Day and night, without exception. Caring for a neonate means setting alarms, losing sleep, and rearranging everything else around the needs of a life that cannot wait until morning.

But today she is a tiny force of nature.

She still doesn’t have her eyes open, but she already recognizes the sound of footsteps, demands her meals with enthusiasm, holds her own bottle while she drinks, and carefully washes her face afterward. She is intelligent, determined, opinionated, and completely self-possessed.

She has no idea she was born into a species that is so hated. She only knows that she is hungry when she’s hungry, warm when she’s warm, safe when she’s safe, and alive because someone cared.

The reality is that we receive more than 3,000 farm animal surrender requests every year, and most of them are from animals just as dependent on human compassion as she is. We do not have the resources to help them all.

That is one of the hardest parts of this work. Not the sleepless nights or the bottle feedings, but knowing how many animals need help and how little support exists for them.

I think a lot about compassion and how it works.

Real compassion doesn’t start at the top with the animals we’ve already decided are beautiful, lovable, or worthy. It starts at the bottom. It starts with the beings that are easiest to overlook, easiest to dismiss, even easiest to hate.

Because if our compassion only extends to the animals everyone already loves, then it isn’t really compassion at all. It’s preference.

The test is whether we can recognize ourselves in the lives that society has taught us not to value.

This baby doesn’t know she’s unpopular. She just knows she wants another bottle.

ITS PUPPY-PALOOZA AT BROKEN SHOVELS!!This Saturday’s Open Sanctuary event is getting an extra dose of adorable.We’re exc...
06/03/2026

ITS PUPPY-PALOOZA AT BROKEN SHOVELS!!

This Saturday’s Open Sanctuary event is getting an extra dose of adorable.

We’re excited to welcome Brighter Days Dog Rescue and some very special guests: a dozen plus puppies from a large hoarding case that they recently stepped in to help. These tiny survivors come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and personalities, and they’re ready to soak up all the love, attention, snuggles, and puppy kisses they can get.

Many of these sweet babies will be available for adoption very soon, and you’ll have a chance to meet them before they begin the next chapter of their lives.

Even if you’re not looking to add a forever family member, there is something undeniably healing about spending time with puppies. Their enthusiasm, curiosity, and unconditional affection have a way of making the world feel a little lighter. And these babies would love to borrow your love for an hour to tell them how perfect they are!

So come visit the sanctuary, meet the rescued farm animals, and then prepare yourself for a serious case of baby snuggles. Fair warning: you may leave covered in puppy kisses and wondering if your home has room for one more family member. You’ll be wondering why the sky looks bluer and your steps seem lighter after being near them.

Saturday June 6th• 10:30 AM–12:00 PM

Tickets and details at https://ticketstripe.com/June062026

06/03/2026

When we rented the excavator to build the new water buffalo pond, we thought maybe we were going a little overboard with the depth.

Then we started digging. And digging. And digging. And now we actually wish we had made it even deeper and bigger. Honestly, I wish we had built it into the side of the berm with glass walls so we could all watch their synchronized swimming routines.

It turns out water buffaloes like Chuy are happiest when they can become submarines. Watch his satisfied little expression as he surfaces ...

Our original buffalo pond was a repurposed waterfowl pond we built years ago. Even when it was completely full, they had to lie down just to get shoulder-deep. This new pond is at least two buffaloes tall at the deep end, and watching them disappear beneath the surface and pop back up again has made us realize just how much they love being fully submerged. And how much we love watching their happiness.

Longtime visitors know that one of our favorite things about sanctuary life is constantly finding ways to make life a little better for the animals who call this place home. Since becoming a sanctuary in 2017, we’ve spent countless hours improving habitats, adding enrichment, and reimagining spaces based on what clearly brings our friends joy.

Whenever an unexpected donation comes in, or during those rare moments when we’re not scrambling to cover hay and feed bills, our minds immediately go to the same question:

“How can we make their lives even better?”

Judging by the buffaloes’ enthusiasm, this pond was a pretty good answer.

06/03/2026

Many of you only saw Jim and Glinda’s final moments together.

What you didn’t see was the life they built.

In this video from a few months ago, Glinda is telling Jim that she’s right next to him and that she wants to be the little spoon. He immediately stands up so she can tuck herself against him, exactly where she wants to be.

They had their own language. Their own routines. Their own understanding of each other.

Jim is mostly blind now, but somehow he was still always the protector. If Glinda wanted to move, he moved. If she wanted comfort, he made room. If she settled down beside him, he settled too.

In the video we shared before, his attention seemed almost frantic, but only because he hadn’t seen her for a couple of days. The truth is that level of devotion wasn’t unusual for Jim. Caring for Glinda was simply what he did.

I make these posts, the moments I happen to get on film between cleaning cages, medicating and feeding because this is what I see every day. Working alongside these animals, year after year, you start to notice the relationships they build, the ways they communicate, and the lives they create for one another. I share these moments hoping that maybe a few people will find some sweetness or meaning in them.

What has touched me most is realizing how many of you see it too.

Reading your comments, seeing thousands of people recognize love, companionship, grief, devotion, and comfort in two little chickens has made me feel far less alone.

We are not alone on this planet. There are entire worlds of meaning happening all around us, if we’re willing to pay attention.

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8640 Dahila Street
Thornton, CO
80640

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